


Automaton Hitman's Dilemma

by HimeBee



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gun Violence, Hitman AU, Post-good ending, Reader-Insert, Robot/Human Relationships, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:57:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15657141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HimeBee/pseuds/HimeBee
Summary: RK800, an android built by the covert ops division of CyberLife, has been commissioned by the military to investigate then assassinate persons of interest. You are a programmer for CyberLife, suspected of tampering with android’s operating systems and have become Connor's next target. However, all of the "facts" pointing to your guilt just don't add up… He then decides to investigate further to find thetrueinterloper.





	Automaton Hitman's Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Target: Neumann's day-to-day routine has been recorded. The assassination of the selected target will commence on 11/06/2040.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This was a story idea me and Kyarymell came up with one day because we're thirsty hoes that have a fetish for Connor with a gun. The picture is drawn by her as well~  
> XD Check out her AO3 profile if you will! https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyarymell/pseuds/Kyarymell)
> 
> (I do plan to continue this story even if no one likes it because I think it'll be interesting to write.. Anyway, I thank everyone in advance for reading!)
> 
> (Also, I hope you all know how awkward and unnerving it is to research shit like, "how do hitmen operate?" or, "what are the parts to a sniper rifle?" Like, I'm fairly certain this shit doesn't look good on my internet history LOL)

* * *

* * *

 

 

 _•Target’s name: Arnold Neumann; Red Ice Dealer_  
•Last seen downtown at a convenience store purchasing cigarettes and a six pack of beer  
_•Wanted for the illegal distribution of Red Ice and--_

 

 

Having been interrupted by the insistent echo of footsteps, the android ceased his reading for a moment to greet his friend and caretaker, Hank Anderson.

“Ah, good morning, Lieutenant. I see you decided to sleep in a bit.” Which was his polite way of saying, _'it's about time you woke up, you lazy bastard.'_

“Mornin’... Wait, the fuck are ya doin’, Connor?” The Lieutenant was blatantly referring to the tablet in his lap displaying some evidence they collected on their target yesterday.

“I'm reviewing the evidence we have so far on the target.” Hank shook his head with an exaggerated sigh, running both of his hands down his face sluggishly.

“Yeah, I can see _that_. I mean what are ya doin' up so damn early, son? Aren't ya tired?” Connor realized just how long he had been working when he looked over toward the clock sitting atop the mantelpiece, displaying a 1 and a 0 in bold, red letters.

“It's only 10 AM, Lieutenant. Besides, I am unrequired to enter into stasis mode as frequently as humans are required to sleep.” Hank rolled his eyes before plopping down on the couch next to the android, leaving enough space for Sumo to join them if he wanted to.

“Right... Forgot about that.”

It was quite intriguing how often Hank forgot that his partner was a machine, designed simply to accomplish a task. Hank's odd sentimentality would have been heart warming _if_ he had a heart to be warmed in the first place.

 

Although it did make him smile a little when Sumo all but jumped onto Hank's lap, despite being told "no, use the couch and not me." Connor got along with most dogs, but Sumo was quite attached to him, mainly because he spent a lot of his time around the dog's master. Most soldiers Connor had previously worked with did not have dog companions, which made him quite appreciative to work with Hank and Sumo; a Saint Bernard trained to detect traces of Red Ice no matter how minuscule. He was especially useful in their current investigation, considering the target was a Red Ice distributor; a well-known junkie polluting the streets of Detroit.

Hank was supportive, albeit reluctant to let Sumo accompany Connor to search for evidence in an old warehouse which was rumored to be frequented by drug dealers. Sumo found an inconspicuous stash of Red Ice and other narcotics no later after they entered, hidden under a loose floor board. It was obvious Neumann, the target, had been there before more than once. If the number of illicit drugs were anything to go by, Neumann most likely spent most of his time there.

Connor decided it would be best to appraise the legitimacy of the collected evidence before heading out for the day to stakeout. He had already pinpointed the best spot he could utilize to assemble his sniper rifle quickly and take out the target without being heard or sighted. Situated on a roof approximately 500 meters away from the target's bedroom window on the fourth story of a rundown apartment building, RK800 could carry out his mission with ease _and_ make it back to Hank's place in time for the basketball game.

 

Speaking of Hank, the lieutenant was currently drifting off to sleep with Sumo still in his lap, who also appeared to be falling asleep. The android clicked his tongue in reprimand at the lieutenant's uncanny sleeping habits, not to mention his unhealthy eating habits and indisputable caffeine addiction.

"Wake up, Lieutenant!" He shook the older man's shoulder for a few seconds until he groaned, yet kept his eyes shut tight.

"Lieutenant... You're going to miss the opportunity to partake in bacon and pancakes if you don't wake up." _That_ got his attention.

"You made breakfast?" Connor snorted with an air of incredulity whilst waving his hand back and forth in a "shooing" motion, aimed in the direction of the kitchen table.

" _No_ , but I can if you could possibly get up and take a seat at the table. We can also review the evidence together while you eat your breakfast." Hank's sleep schedule would be even _more_ fucked up if he were to fall back asleep now, so Connor decided to keep him preoccupied until it was time for him to leave for the job.

It wouldn't take him long to whip up some bacon, pancakes and coffee, considering he had done it on multiple occasions before. At this point, it was practically second nature to him. Well, other than killing. He was pretty good at that too.

 

**//Current Objective: Make breakfast for Hank//**

 

"Why the hell're you so gung-ho about takin' out some lowlife junkie? Don't get me wrong, I hate the Red Ice dealing bastards just as much as you do, but it looks like you've been reviewing the evidence all night..." Connor shrugged indifferently, tossing a pancake up into the air and catching it on the skillet with precision.

"I _have_ been reviewing since yesterday night. I have also surmised that Neumann will return to his apartment around midnight. Considering today is Friday, otherwise known as the day Jimmy's bar offers a free drink to patrons who have purchased at least two drinks." The pancakes were done, now for the bacon.

"Alright, so what's your conclusion?" With the pancakes now hot and in front of him, drizzled in syrup, Hank immediately begun eating them at an alarmingly fast pace. Connor would have advised him to slow down, but the debriefing came first.

"The target will be home today at midnight, retiring to his bedroom after a night of consuming copious amounts of alcohol and possible debauchery." Connor placed a few strips of bacon on the lieutenant's plate along with his pancakes and a mug full of hot, steamy coffee situated next to his plate.

 

**//Make breakfast for Hank: Complete √**

 

"I have also taken into account the wind speed and its direction for tonight. My conclusion is: the weather nor any other miscellaneous factor will be a hindrance to my mission." Connor spoke with strong conviction.

"That's fine and dandy, but you mean to tell me you plan to wait on top of a roof right across from this guy's bedroom window for... 15 hours?" He fixed the android with an unbelievable stare as if he had malfunctioned or said something bizarre.

"13 hours, 58 minutes and 120 seconds, to be exact."

"You're fuckin' bonkers, son. The fuck are ya gonna do for 13 hours?" The old man questioned, completely oblivious to the big dog currently sneaking a strip of bacon off of his plate.

"I am an android, Lieutenant. I will find a way to preoccupy myself while I wait." 

"Whatever you say, Conn- wait, what the hell..?! Bad dog, Sumo, stop stealing my bacon!" Connor chuckled.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

**//Date: 11/06/2040**

**Time: 11:51:07 P.M.**

**Target: Arnold K. Neumann**

**Current Objective: Calibrate systems and assemble sniper rifle//**

 

Connor merely bided his time by rolling a quarter deftly between his knuckles, flipping and catching it with both hands each time. Not only did playing with his coin keep him busy, it also sharpened his reflexes and precision, especially when it came to firing the sniper rifle. One beneficial thing about being a killing machine designed to assist the military was no fingerprints. Even still, Connor preferred to wear black, leather gloves just in case the job got a little messy.

 

**//Calibrate systems and assemble sniper rifle: Complete √**

 

After a few minutes, he checked his watch to see if he was on time or had a few more minutes to spare.

_'Right on time.'_

Deciding that it would be less than optimal to be unprepared, should the target show up earlier than anticipated, RK800 rolled up his sleeves to the elbow and begun assembling his rifle. First, he scanned the parts to make sure they were all functioning and capable of operation. After the analysis, he checked the telescopic sight to ensure the ability of spotting his target clearly from 500+ meters away. With the magazine, the suppressor and stand locked into place, Connor assumed his position at the ledge of the roof.

His hands were nothing but steady as he held the rifle, positioning the gun until its sights were perfectly aimed at the target's bedroom window. After having done this plenty of times before, the weight of the rifle was practically nil to the android. Whenever a stakeout went awry and he was forced to remain dormant for an extended amount of time, Connor realized just how long he could stay in one spot in the same position without faltering. That is until his body begins to wear down or overheat, which is quite rare.

But this time, it didn't seem like he would be waiting for _too_ long. Neumann was entering the apartment complex at approximately 12:00:27, just as he had estimated. Better yet, his target had absolutely no clue what was about to happen to him. If he hadn't even noticed the open window in his bedroom, then he was just as oblivious as Connor had originally hoped.

 

Ten minutes passed before the target reentered into his sights once again, in his bedroom now fumbling around with a small plastic bag. It was obvious what the contents were, considering Neumann was eagerly sniffing it and coddling the bag to his chest as if it were his own flesh and blood... Disgusting.

_Red Ice._

It's about time he put this poor son of a bitch out of his misery, erasing his miserable existence from society. Unfortunately, he could not delete the identity of this lowlife from his memory due to strict military protocol purposes. The next best thing was killing the fucker before he could even realize he was already dead. After all, he  _always_ accomplished his missions.

With a small flex of his index finger, one bullet flew from the muzzle of the gun, through the target's open window and straight through his skull and brain. The bullet never exited his head, and Connor made sure of that. He was far away enough so the projectile's velocity was not nearly fast enough to pierce the flesh and continue until it exited the target's brain, thus resulting in the production of conspicuous evidence. Neumann's entire body went rigid before he crumbled down onto is bed with a soft 'pat', staining the sheets on his mattress a deep crimson and dropping the bag of Red Ice in the process.

Connor decided it would be _way_ too risky to retrieve the bag right now... He would wait until tomorrow to return to the scene of the crime and photograph the proof of a successful mission, as to appease his superiors.

 

 **//** **Date: 11/06/2040**

**Time: 12:15:09 A.M.**

**Target: ~~Arnold K. Neumann~~ (Eliminated)**

**Current Objective: Return to Lieutenant Anderson's house to watch the basketball game//**

_**Mission Successful.** _

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

Hank and Sumo greeted Connor right when he entered the house, as they usually do when he returns from a job. Assuming Hank isn't blackout drunk on the kitchen floor, of course.

"Damn, kid. That was fast." The old man grunted as he flipped through the TV channels, probably searching for the basketball game.

"When have I _ever_ been slow with anything I do, Lieutenant?" He re-rolled up his sleeves with a small smirk playing on his features, tossing his leather gloves on top of the kitchen table one by one.

"Speaking of being slow, why don'tcha grab us some snacks from the fridge? Haven't eaten shit since ya left." Connor quirked an eyebrow at the detective's detrimental eating habits, once again surprising him with how little the old man cared for himself. At this rate, Connor would be forced to find another partner.

"Lieutenant, you need to take better care of yourself. You're supposed to be _my_ caretaker, not the other way around." He smirked again when Hank threw a pillow at his chest, which he easily caught with one hand, mumbling a simple "shuddup" in his weak defense.

 

**//Current Objective: Find something for Lieutenant Anderson to eat//**

 

 **"** What would you like to eat, Hank? We don't have much in the refrigerator... Perhaps I should make a trip to the supermarket?" The old man shook his head before slowly standing up, accompanied by a stretch and a loud groan.

"Nah, I got it. The game won't be on for another twenty minutes. I'll be back in ten. Besides, I gotta walk this big fella."

"Come on, Sumo. We're goin' for a walk- and... Connor?" Sumo's head jerked up at the word "walk".

"Yes, Lieutenant?" He tilted his head toward Hank with a curious expression.

"Ah, it's nothing. Just make sure you contact the higher ups and give 'em your report, got it?"

"Got it." Sumo barked and scratched at the front door to garner his master's attention, signifying his eagerness to get out of the house for a late night stroll. Hank merely rolled his eyes, grabbing Sumo's tangerine-colored leash and collar off of the floor.

"Yeah yeah, I hear ya.. We'll be back, son."

 

**//Find something for Lieutenant Anderson to eat: Abandoned**

 

**//Current Objective: Give report to superiors//**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mission was successful. Standby for further instructions.**


End file.
